"For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul." – Judy Garland

THAT Moment

They were talking; he knew that much: about changing history, about Andrew, about things that belonged only to them. He was frankly surprised that he could string more than two words together with that dress that she had on. He wished there was someone he could ask to see if she really was wearing bustier clothes since he woke up, or if it was just his imagination. All he knew was that her voice in his head saying "popped out" was driving him nuts on the inside.

Words kept flowing between them; nicer words than they'd shot at each other in his SUV. She was repeating his words now, letting him know in her own awkward way that she got it; and that she was sorry. He'd forgiven her as soon as he'd found out she dumped his boss for him tonight.

Like the sun, she pulled him into her orbit and he was helpless to resist. As they talked he drifted closer and closer to her and she to him, until they were all but breathing the same air.

The talking stopped and her soft, feminine lips were mere centimeters from his. He remembered their taste despite the time that had passed. Remembered the feeling of her tongue slipping in, leaving gum and a hint of what could be his if he would claim it. He hadn't been ready then, but he was now.

A voice from above called down, shattering the silence. Time to go.

He looked at her again, saw her keen eyes taking everything in, and heard the squints' laughter as they left the way they'd come. Once more the thought of her lips on his consumed him, pointing out that she hadn't turned to leave any more than he had.

Her hands reached out, smoothing a tie that he knew damned well wasn't crooked. Keeping his eyes on hers so they wouldn't stray south again, he reached out; brushing her silky hair where it hung perfectly, a shock of pleasure rushing through his fingers as they touched the creamy crook of her neck.

They separated without the customary embarrassment and his spirits buoyed. No, there had been no meeting of the lips, but as they walked away- Anok's bleeding heart between them- he knew that he loved her far beyond what any tumor could cause and maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way too.

If you would like to see a Brennan POV on this let me know and I'll give it a shot.

-Gum